The Deatheater's Daughter
by DaronwyK
Summary: Tracey Davis is the half-blood, illegitimate daughter of Corban Yaxley. Certain her father murdered her mother when she was a child, she's always tried to keep on her father's good side. The Dark Lord has returned and now her life hangs in the balance. What place is there for the daughter of a muggle, among the Dark Lord's most faithful?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This will be a slow-burn, and other side pairings will be announced as they emerge. This will be a darker fic, and will diverge from Canon here and there after the end of Goblet of Fire.

**o.o.O.o.o**

_"I won't let you take her away from me!" _

_Tracey woke up, hearing shouts from the living room. She crept to her bedroom door, easing the handle open to hear what was going on._

_"She is my daughter, and I will not leave her here to be raised in this sty by a whore." _

_"You weren't complaining when you were the one paying to fuck me." _

_There was a sound of flesh striking flesh, a crash, and then a strangled scream. Tracey scrambled back from the door as she heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. The door was thrown open and she tried to scramble under her bed but the tall man just scooped her up. She struggled, but he was just so strong. A wave hit her suddenly, and she fell asleep, unable to help it. _

Tracey sat up in bed, heart pounding against her ribcage. She'd only been five when her father had taken her away. She didn't remember much about her mother, but that memory just wouldn't go away. She'd never had the courage to ask her father about it, especially because the entire subject of her mother was forbidden. If anyone asked about it when they were out, he would merely say that she was dead. Even as a young child, Tracey had known that her father had killed her mother that night.

Tracey got dressed and headed down for breakfast. She entered the room, seeing her father sitting at the table, reading the Daily Prophet like he did every morning. As she approached her place, her heart began to hammer inside her chest. There was a letter sitting beside her plate. She never got any letters, and given that today was her birthday, it could be a very important letter. She sat down on her chair and cautiously reached for it. Her father lowered his paper, as she looked at it.

Ms. Tracey Davis

The Rose Suite

Yaxley Manor

Abbots Ripton, Huntingdonshire

It was written in brilliant green ink, and she flipped it over to see the Hogwarts Crest set into the thick red wax. She opened it and rabidly devoured her letter. She was going to Hogwarts and she'd be a real witch. She looked up at her father, and for the first time that she could remember, there was a proud smile on his face.

"Do I really get to go to Hogwarts, father?" she asked.

"Of course you must go to Hogwarts. You're my daughter and there's no better school of magic in the British Isles." He smiled. "We'll take a trip to Diagon Alley today, for your birthday. Now, eat your breakfast, it's going to be a very busy day." He picked his paper back up and left her to grin madly over her letter.

Tracey wanted to bounce around and shout her joy, but she knew better than to act in such a manner around her father. He was very strict about how a young witch was supposed to behave, particularly his daughter. She stroked her letter one more time before obediently having her breakfast. Maybe she would finally be able to make her father proud of her. No matter what it took, she knew that she'd find a way. Somehow.

o.o.O.o.o

Her birthday was spent almost entirely in Diagon Alley, and it was amazing. Her father had taken her to all the stores, smiling and indulging her in anything she wanted. He'd insisted on getting her a custom trunk, telling her the standard trunks were rubbish that would be lucky to last through her school years. The custom trunk was covered in glossy black dragon hide with silver fittings. Her initials were inscribed on the ends and the lid in elegant script, and the inside was lined with lavender silk. She loved purple and all its different shades.

They'd gone to order her school robes and at the very end of the day, when she didn't think things could get any better, her father stopped in the middle of the street and looked down at her.

"Well, there's only one more place to go. It's time to go and get your wand," he said and led her across the street to a rather dusty looking shop. He gestured her inside and stood back as she greeted the wizened old man who'd run it for as long as anyone could remember.

"What is your name, my dear?" The old man came around the counter.

"Tracey Davis, sir," she said, eyes a little wide as she took the man in. His pale blue eyes seemed to look right through her, and raised the hair on the back on her neck.

"Hmmmm, quite curious," he said softly and then straightened. "It seems only yesterday that your father was in here buying his first wand, still excellent for charms work I trust?" he flicked his gaze to Yaxely by the door.

"As ever." Corban smiled.

"Good good, well…we should see if we can find just the right wand for you. Of course the wand chooses the witch, but let's see if we can't help it find you mmm?" He grinned at the girl who nodded enthusiastically.

Tracey was quivering with excitement as the old shop keeper returned with a dark blue wand box, opening it and offering her the wand inside. The wand was jet black and lay quietly on a pillow of white satin. As she slipped her fingers under the handle she felt something intense surge up her arm and pool deep in her stomach. She picked it up and gave it an experimental flick and purple sparks showered down around her. She smiled brightly and saw the shop keeper looked equally pleased.

"I believe we have your match, right off. Ebony, 11 inches, with a core of dragon heartstring. A hidden talent for Transfigurations perhaps…or even dueling. Regardless, I do believe we can expect great things from you, Miss Davis," he said.

"Thank you, sir," Tracey said and admired her beautiful wand as her father paid Ollivander at the counter. They left the shop together and her father wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He'd never been one to give hugs, or show any public affection for her. It was a little scary if she was honest.

"I'm very proud of you, Tracey. I know you won't disappoint me once you're at school," he said and Tracey could read the unspoken threat in those words. She would work very hard to be the daughter he wanted her to be. No matter what it took.


	2. Chapter 2

o.o.O.o.o

June 24th, 1995

Tracey walked back to the Common Room in a daze, nearly crying out as Draco grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the main corridor into an empty classroom. She could see the tension around his eyes as well.

"Do you think it's true? That he's really back?" Tracey asked, wrapping her arms around her middle.

"I don't know," Draco said and ran a hand through his hair. "When has Potter ever been wrong, really?" He sat down on a dusty old bench.

"Well, shit," Tracey said and went to sit with him. If it was true, if the Dark Lord had really returned, things were going to start changing. A part of her was afraid of what her future held if her father returned to the Dark Lord's ranks, and even more terrified about what would happen if he didn't. Sometimes, she felt like the only reason he'd taken her in and acknowledged her at all was because the Dark Lord had fallen. She was proof that he'd fucked a muggle, she couldn't imagine that would make him popular with his master.

"You ok?" he asked, looking at her strangely.

"How can I be ok, Draco?" She turned her head and looked at him, furious that she could feel tears stinging her eyes. "You wouldn't even dance with me at the Yule Ball because of who my mother is. If he's back…" She shook her head, feeling the tears spill free.

Draco had the grace to look ashamed. "I'm sorry…I didn't think you cared. You were with that guy from Durmstrang and he looked like he might curse anyone that tried to steal his date anyway. I wanted to."

"You asked all the other girls, Draco. Of course I cared." She wiped her tears away, frustrated. The Dark Lord had returned, and she was complaining about the stupid Yule Ball. "It doesn't matter anyway."

"Your father will protect you, Trace…" Draco tried to reassure her.

"You don't know that. He killed my mother, Draco. I know he did." She shivered violently. "At best I'm an embarrassment to him, at worst I'm a liability. And he doesn't leave liabilities hanging around." She had few illusions about the kind of man her father was. He was cold, calculating, and had a propensity for violence that he always kept just barely contained around her. He didn't love her and had made it clear for as long as she could remember that she was an obligation. He'd never raised a hand to her, but he did frighten her.

"We'll all look out for you, Trace," Draco said and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We stick together and now…we're going to have to."

"You can't protect me, not from him." She did lean into his side, taking the offered comfort for the moment while there was no one to see it. Draco was a good friend, but for obvious reasons they kept that very low key. Pansy was extremely possessive of him, and she had no desire to spark a war inside her dorm. Especially a war that she'd probably lose. She and Daphne were close, but it wasn't likely that she'd side with her against Parkinson and Bulstrode. It was just better to avoid it all together. It had taken her all of first year, and most of second to gain full acceptance from her year-mates. She was the only half-blood in their year, and the added notoriety of being a bastard had made things very difficult for her. Pansy was the only one who still made jokes about it, but it was easy enough to ignore her.

"We can at least try." Draco squeezed her a little, but just sat with her until she was ready to face the Common Room.

Finally Tracey stood, banished the dust and dirt from their robes, and used a glamour to hide her puffy eyes. By the time they reached the Common Room, she looked as perfectly put together as she'd been before the Third Task. The mood in the room was tense as she walked away from Draco and headed over to sit with Daphne and Astoria. Her friend reached over and gently squeezed her hand, a silent show of support that was easy to hide.

The sinking feeling in their collective guts was deepened when Professor Sinestra entered the Common Room. She was the only other Slytherin Professor at the school, and she only appeared when Snape was unavailable. She called for the House to assemble, and once everyone was gathered she addressed them.

"It is my sad duty to confirm that Cedric Diggory, the Hogwarts Champion, was killed during the Third Task tonight. There will be a memorial service at the conclusion of exams and before you are returned home. Professor Snape has been unavoidably called away on an urgent personal matter, so any House business is to be brought to me until he returns. I'll remain here for a while to address any concerns that you might have on an individual basis," she said and looked around the room.

Tracey's stomach dropped. Snape's absence basically confirmed the Dark Lord's return. She quietly excused herself and headed back up to the dorm. The trains for home left in a little over a week, and she didn't know what would be waiting for her at the other end.

Daphne came up a few minutes later and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Times like this she was grateful for her very insightful friend. Unlike Draco, she knew why Tracey was so shaken and the uncertainty she was now facing.

"It'll be ok. If things go badly, you know you're always welcome at the Green," Daphne said quietly.

"You're a good friend, Daphne." Tracey nodded. At least she had the option, if her father didn't just kill her outright.

"Just try not to worry too much, we still need to get through exams," Daphne said. "Remember what Snape always tells us, focus on what you can control and everything else will fall into place."

"I hope he comes back soon," she said and took a deep breath.

"Yeah, me too." Daphne stopped talking as Pansy came in.

"Looks like **_some_** people will finally need to learn their place." She sneered at Tracey as she passed with Millie.

"Why do you need to be such a bitch, Pans," Daphne snapped at her. "Someone is dead. You could at least pretend to care."

"What do I care about some dead, 'Puff?" She rolled her eyes.

"Do you even hear yourself?" Daphne shook her head. "If the Dark Lord has returned, do you know how hard things are going to be for everyone in this House? Other than Snape, we'll have no one on our side, whether our parents are supporters of his or not. You might want to think about that before you throw a party."

"Besides…I doubt the Dark Lord will be terribly happy with any of our parents, after they all renounced him." Tracey broke in and looked at Pansy and Millie. "I'll be writing to my father tomorrow, and I suggest you both do the same."

"She's right, Pansy. We all need to be careful now," Millicent finally spoke up.

"Let's just get some rest," Daphne said and let out breath. "It's been a long day."

With that, the four Slytherin girls fell into an uneasy silence.

o.o.O.o.o

Tracey didn't have to post a letter to her father the next day, one arrived for her with the morning mail. Her father's short-eared owl dropped the letter into her hands, and her stomach dropped down to her knees. She tucked it into her book bag and tried not to think about it as they struggled through breakfast. The feeling in the room was undeniably somber. The Hufflepuffs looked miserable, the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors were split between sadness and shooting suspicious looks over at the Slytherin Table, and her own House was trying to pretend that they didn't notice.

Tracey finished off her porridge and excused herself. She headed for an alcove where she could sit and read her father's letter, hopefully without interruption.

_Tracey,_

_Given recent events, there is much we will need to discuss once you return home. Rest assured that I am well, and have taken all measures necessary to ensure our safety in the coming days. Focus on your examinations. I expect you to perform to your usual standards of excellence, and I will not be pleased if you should allow yourself to succumb to current distractions. _

_I will see you at King's Cross in a week. Keep your head down, and try not to worry. _

_Regards,_

_Your Father _

She read it twice more before burning the letter and leaning back against the cool stone of the wall. The use of the words 'our' and 'we' were reassuring, but there was still a knot in her gut. She could count on one hand the number of times he'd signed a letter as 'your father'. Usually only after she'd done something that especially pleased him.

She took a deep breath and stood. The Charms exam was in less than an hour and she needed her wits about her for that. She wasn't a genius like Nott or Granger, but she did well enough by working hard to make up for any lack of natural talent that some of her peers had. Most years she was solidly in the top ten in most of her classes. Her father would accept no less and Professor Snape had always counselled her to take advantage of her strengths to help mitigate her weaknesses.

"Everything alright?" Nott asked, as he fell into step with her as they headed for the Charms classroom.

"Seems to be, but with my father you never really know." She sighed.

"Fair enough," he said with a sympathetic smile. "Listen, a few of us are going meet the night before we leave. You should be there."

"Who else is coming?" she asked.

"People we can trust to keep their mouths shut and their ears open. Don't tell any of your dorm mates," Theo said.

"Where are we meeting?" Theo was one of the quietest Slytherins in their year, but one that she was always a little wary of. He did have a temper, and she remembered what he'd done to Montague last year after the older boy had pranked him. They'd needed to call Snape, and Nott had spent three months in detentions over it. She still shuddered remembering the blood on the floor of the Common Room.

"First year Potions classroom, at eight," Theo said.

"I'll be there," she said as they entered the main hallway.

"Good luck on your exam," Theo said as they entered the classroom.

She shook her head a little, not bothering to return the sentiment. Nott never needed luck, he could probably write the exam in his sleep and still get the best marks. Today was the theoretical, and they all had assignments for their practical test tomorrow. She sat down in the Slytherin section and tried to just put everything out of her mind. Her problems weren't going anywhere, and she could think about them after she passed this test.

o.o.O.o.o

Exams had been brutal, but tonight's memorial dinner had been even worse. She knew *why* Draco had been such a prat during the Headmaster's speech, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to make things worse for all of them. He played the role of arrogant prick all too well, and there were days she wondered how much of an act it really was. He was her friend, but he could blow hot and cold faster than the wind could change directions. It had been difficult to duck her dorm mates, but she'd finally begged a little time to herself before they headed home tomorrow.

A discreet notice-me-not charm kept anyone from following her to the first year classroom. She opened the door and nodded to the group that was assembled inside. Draco was there, standing with Theo as they talked quietly. The Carrow twins didn't surprise her either, Hestia and Flora were a year below her and the girls were quiet and highly observant. She had her suspicions about what their lives were like at home, given the number of times she'd seen them brewing healing potions and wound salves in June. Henrick Avery was a surprise though. The 6th year student was one she didn't know terribly well, but she supposed he had just as much right to be here as she did. And then there was Veris Selwyn, one of the students who had just completed his NEWTs and she realized with a sinking stomach that he was probably at risk for being conscripted to the Dark Lord's forces.

"Good, we're all here," Theo said as he entered. He moved to the door and warded it heavily.

"Yaxley's bastard? You trust her?" Veris looked like he'd smelled something foul as he flicked his eyes over her.

"As much as I trust any of you," Theo said smoothly. "She has just as much reason to be here as you do, if not more. Most of us at least have the protection of being our fathers' heirs, she doesn't. We are all going to swear an oath, to keep this alliance secret and share information with each other. Anyone who refuses to swear this oath, will be obliviated."

Tracey nodded and moved forward, lifting her wand. "I, Tracey Caprice Davis, do swear on my magic to keep this alliance secret and to freely share any information I come across regarding the Dark Lord with the others here." A flare of gold shot up into the air with the weight of her oath.

Theo smiled at her and then the others in the room followed suite, until they had all sworn the oath.

"I'm sure you've all been in contact with your parents. My father cautioned me to keep from doing anything to drawn unwanted attention from the Headmaster, or those that might be watching us. Going forward next year, we're going to need to assume that our mail will be monitored," Theo said.

"If it's not already," Henrick said cynically. "The only saving grace is that at the moment, my father said that the Ministry is actively denying Potter's claims about the Dark Lord. I don't imagine they'll be happy to hear about Dumbledore's little speech tonight."

"Knowing Fudge, 'not happy' will probably be a massive understatement," Veris said.

"We'll need to come up with a way to stay in contact that can't be traced. Most of what we discover will likely be over the summer, and most of us won't really have an opportunity to see one another until September." Hestia said. "There are parties of course, but…some of us don't get invited." Her eyes flicked to Tracey.

"Between Draco and I, we can make sure Tracey gets invited to the right parties," Theo said.

"My father and I have a pair of journals that we can converse through. I can teach you all the enchantments and we can use that to pass information when needed," Veris said. "I think the best we can hope for right now, is to try and look out for one another."

"I think you're right," Draco said after a moment. "My father's letter was…tense. He was clear that he expects my enthusiastic endorsement of the old ways going forward." He didn't look entirely comfortable with it.

"So I was right, our parents are out of favour," Tracey said and shook her head.

"Yes, but they're all he has right now," Draco said. "He'd be a fool to go too far in punishing them, when he needs them and their gold."

"Henrick and I will probably be recruited soon enough, and that should give us some deeper understanding of what's going on," Veris said. "I'm hoping that my apprenticeship will delay that, but it might not."

"I should start investigating options for one of my own, next summer," Henrick said.

"Things could change quickly, we need to stay ahead of it." Draco ran a hand through his hair, still frowning hard.

"We will, together," Tracey said meeting his cool blue eyes. "All we can do is try and stick together, as much as possible."

"Watch your friends and your dorm mates too," Flora said. "There are some that will be…outspoken. Never let them suspect that we're working together. Outside this room, nothing can change."

"Agreed." Theo nodded. "We'll call it a night, before Snape starts his sweep of the dungeons. It's best that we all return to the Common Room separately. Or at least in usual pairings," he said.

"I'll enchant the journals and slip them to all of you in the morning while we pack for the trains," Veris said.

"Be safe and don't take any unnecessary risks," Theo said and moved to the door, dispelling the wards. He left without another word, and the twins followed suit quickly.

"Walk you back to the Common Room?" Draco asked. It wasn't unusual for them to be seen together.

"That sounds good," Tracey said, feeling a little better about some things and a little worse about others. As they walked, Draco slipped his hand into hers and squeezed it gently. Tracey leaned her head against his shoulder as they took the long way back. These corridors were seldom used, full of empty classrooms and dusty storage closets.

"Pansy will be furious, but I'd like to invite you to my mother's Summer Ball," Draco said quietly.

"Are you sure that's smart?" she asked, heart beating just a little too fast.

"No, but I still want to." Draco's hand tightened a little more around hers. "If nothing else, my mother will approve of the aesthetic," he teased.

"I suppose I tick the 'pretty blonde' box for Malfoy escorts?" She laughed a little.

"You do." Draco stopped and looked down at her. "You were the prettiest witch at the Yule Ball."

Tracey felt her face getting flushed at the very direct statement. "I don't know about that…I mean…"

"You were." Draco cut her off and was starting to lean down when something flung them apart a few feet.

"Mr. Malfoy, Miss Davis…it is dangerously close to curfew." Snape's smooth tone cut through the air like a blade.

"Yes Sir, we were just heading back." Draco straightened under the intense look from his Head of House.

"Then you had better hurry. The trains might leave tomorrow, but I am not above assigning a detention for the first night back." He lifted his eyebrows. "And for future reference, the hallways are no place for teenage dalliances, particularly hallways you both know I patrol regularly. One might thing you wanted to be caught."

"I'll try and remember that, sir. In future," Draco drawled and draped an arm around Tracey's shoulders and together they hurried back toward the Common Room.

Tracey shot him a look, realizing the almost kiss had been purely for show. "You knew he was there?"

"He always hits that corridor ten minutes before curfew. That way he'll never suspect what we were actually up to." Draco winked at her and took his arm off her shoulders as they reached the entrance. "Ladies first." He gestured.

"You're an ass Draco Malfoy," she muttered and gave the password before storming off to her dorm to finish packing. Bloody Wizards.


	3. Chapter 3

**o.o.O.o.o**

Corban stood on the platform of 9 ¾ waiting for the Hogwart's Express to pull in. There was tension in the air, and he knew that the death of the Diggory boy was just the beginning. Not for the first time, he was grateful his son was in Belgium and working for the Ministry there. There was no reason to recall him to Britain and at least that would spare his heir from the Dark Lord's attentions. His daughter, however, was not going to be so fortunate. He didn't know who had told him about Tracey, but somehow the Dark Lord knew. He'd pointedly asked if Corban had at least taken care of the muggle bitch he'd fathered a bastard on. He scrubbed a hand over his face. It meant it would be impossible to keep Tracey from the Dark Lord's eye.

The train pulled into the station smoothly and he waited as the children streamed off in search of their parents. He spotted her, exiting a car near the rear of the train. Nott's boy was being a gentleman, helping the girls step down with their trunks. It was refreshing to see that at least some young men had manners. He walked down to where she was disembarking and felt a curl over his lips. She looked more and more like her mother every year. Sometimes it hurt to look at her.

"Do you have all your things?" he asked as she spotted him.

"Yes, sir," she said, tone always so formal. Sometimes he was grateful for it, and other days…it broke his heart that she was so afraid of him.

"Come along then, Vixs will have dinner waiting for us. You can catch up with your friends later." He picked up her trunk and wrapped an arm around her shoulders before disapparating. They landed in the front hall, and he removed his arm to let her move away. "Get yourself cleaned up for dinner, and you can tell me all about your second term."

"Of course." She smiled and headed for the stairs, as Vixs popped her trunk out of the hall and up to her room.

Corban headed to his study and poured himself a drink. It would have been easier if his daughter wasn't quite so beautiful, but she was coming to an age where he'd need to start thinking about provisions for her future and possibly arranging her marriage to the right kind of wizard. The Dark Lord's return complicated even that simple duty. Families that might have overlooked her questionable breeding before, would shun her now, and men that he'd never have considered would have to be given at least the appearance of a fair chance. No matter what he chose for her, there would be resentment over it. The only positive point was that he at least had a few years before most would start looking at her seriously. If he could find something unobjectionable this summer, it could possibly fly under the radar.

He headed to the dining room, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, and yanked the cravat loose. The pain from his private punishment at the Dark Lord's hands still radiated through his body. One thing was certain, he wasn't eager for a repeat of that night. The Dark Lord had put them all on notice that any future mistakes would be taken out of their hides, and possibly their children's. That was enough to put true fear into all of them, even the most arrogant of their number. He would do whatever it took to protect his daughter, and he knew all of his fellows would do the same.

His daughter came in and took her seat, placing her napkin across her lap as the meal appeared. She'd changed out of her uniform, into a simple pale green dress.

"How did you do with you with your examinations?" He started with a neutral topic.

"Fairly well. I had a little trouble with Defence, but I think I managed to get a good grade," she said.

"We'll see about arranging some tutoring this summer for that then. Your instruction in that subject has been abysmal, and with OWLs next year I don't want you unprepared," he said. The current climate also meant that she'd need a strong practical background in offensive and defensive magic, and it was unlikely that she'd get that education at school. He'd need to find her an appropriate tutor, and make certain she applied herself.

"Thank you, father," she said.

"Were things much unsettled after the Third Task?" Corban asked.

"Of course they were." Tracey's eyes were focused on the table. "A boy was dead. The Headmaster and Potter told us that the Dark Lord was to blame. Everyone's scared." She snuck a small look at him.

"The Dark Lord did kill that boy," he confirmed for her. He could also tell that she was scared, and as much as he wanted to tell her there was nothing for her to worry about, he couldn't. "I won't lie to you, Tracey. Things are going to be difficult for a while and possibly dangerous. I will do what I can to protect you, but there may come a time when I can't." He hated that most of all. "But I need you to understand that I wish I could shield you from all of it."

"What's going to happen?" she asked.

"Nothing that you need to worry about right now. Let me worry about the Dark Lord, and keeping us in his good graces." Corban hated the distrust in her eyes. "I will have times when I may ask things of you, and I need you to do what I say without question. Is that clear?"

"Very clear," she said and turned her eyes back to the table.

The silence was…uncomfortable tonight and he didn't like the tension he was seeing in her shoulders. Merlin, what must she be thinking? Was he really such a monster that his daughter was too afraid to look at him unless he was talking to her? That needed to end and quickly. He couldn't keep her safe if she didn't trust him. There was this gulf between them, filled with all the things they didn't say, and it got wider every year. He wasn't sure how to bridge that gap, but he had to try.

"Don't bother unpacking your things, tomorrow you'll be moving out of the Rose Suite," he said as they finished up with dessert.

"What?" She looked stunned and instantly worried.

"You'll be moving into the family wing. I've had Vixs air out a set of rooms near mine. It's long past time," he said and stood. "You are part of this family Tracey, and if I'm to expect you to uphold its traditions…you should be treated as more than an unwelcome guest. You'll have a budget to redecorate the rooms to your liking, and you're free to invite your friends over as long as you let me know ahead of time." It was an olive branch, and he hoped she would accept it.

"I…thank you, father," Tracey said after a moment of stunned silence.

"It's good to have you home. If you need me, I'll be in my study. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she replied.

Corban let out a breath he'd been holding, as he left the dining room. He should have moved her into the family wing when he'd first brought her home. Shame had made him place her in the guest wing of the house, with just an elf to mind her while he was busy at the Ministry. The simple truth was he'd never intended to take her with him that night. He'd gone to see for himself if the entry in the family grimoire was accurate.

His short dalliance with Addison Davis had been a salve for his wounded heart after the death of his wife, and a much needed escape from his duties to the Dark Lord. A child had never been part of the plan. He'd never even known the woman was pregnant when he stopped engaging her services after a few months. The little entry in the family tree had sent him searching for her. His intention had been to offer Addison money and a home in the country where she could raise their daughter in comfort. His money would have supported Tracey at school, without the stigma of a Death Eater father. He would have happily remained anonymous to the girl, but what he'd found there that night had made that plan impossible.

In the five years since he'd last seen her, Addison had changed. And not for the better. Her flat had been covered in half-empty liquor bottles and other assorted things that he might not have understood the use of, but he was certain that they were not good for a child. They'd argued and somehow she'd fallen backwards, striking her head on the edge of the coffee table. He'd never meant to hurt her. Tracey had been hiding under the bed upstairs, rail thin and dirty, but those impossibly blue eyes had stared up at him and he'd known he couldn't leave her there. So he'd taken her and never looked back. Addison had been alive when he left, but when he returned the next night…she and most of her belongings were gone. He'd never gone looking for her. Tracey believed she was dead, and it was better that way.

While he might be a bastard and guilty of more crimes than any man should ever have gotten away with, he wasn't capable of abandoning his child. Better his general indifference than what he'd found her living in. He sighed and poured himself another drink, going over to look at the picture of his daughter from the Yule Ball. She looked so lovely in the silver and pink gown he'd bought for her. Her blonde hair was braided into a crown, with delicate tendrils escaping to fame her face. She smiled shyly at the camera, on the arm of her escort from Durmstrang. The older boy smiled charmingly down at her, oblivious to anything but his date. The pair were surrounded by a fall of enchanted snow, and it looked simply perfect. She looked happy, and it was a painful reminder that he so rarely saw her smile. More than anything, he wanted her to be happy and Corban was determined to try and make her smile more often.

o.o.O.o.o

"Did he say why?" Daphne asked as she sat down with Tracey on the comfortable window seat in her new rooms.

"No, just that it was long past time," Tracey said and shook her head. It was a sudden change, and she didn't like those.

"Well, it kind of is," Daphne said gently. "This a good thing, Trace. Maybe he'll finally start treating you like he should." She reached over and took her friend's hand.

"I just don't trust it. I mean the Dark Lord returns and suddenly he's being all attentive and kind?" She shook her head.

"Maybe it's the wake-up call he needed. Maybe you should give him the chance to try and make things up to you," she said. "It would make things easier for you."

"I'll try." She sighed and leaned back against the soft cushions. These rooms were massive, easily twice the size of the guest room she'd lived in since coming here. Daphne had come over to help her make some simple changes to the décor, the two girls pretty good at transfigurations. She was also the only one of Tracey's friends that would understand why she was so freaked out by this. In her earliest memories, her father had made it clear that she was NOT a Yaxley, and only an obligation. It felt unfair that suddenly the rules had changed.

"Having him recognize you properly would mean that you could end up marrying well too. It's not like there have been any other Yaxley women for a few generations. It gives you something to leverage." Daphne winked at her. "Not to mention you're easily the prettiest girl in our year."

"Hardly." Tracey rolled her eyes a little. She knew that she was pretty enough, but there were other witches just as pretty, with better backgrounds to help them along. It was the reason she worked so hard to get the best grades she could manage, and tried to perfect her manners. She needed to be perfect, just to keep on an even footing with the other Slytherin girls. It would be so easy to slip.

"Have you gotten any letters from Hedrick?" Daphne asked.

"Yes, he asked permission to write to me before they left. I got a letter with the morning post today." She smiled. "He's….really sweet."

"I think you and Granger snagged the two best wizards from Durmstrang," she said.

"It probably won't end up being anything, but it was nice." She felt her cheeks heat up a little. Hedrick Tolftson was from Norway, and it was nice to just get to know someone that didn't look at her like she was less of a witch because her mother was a muggle, or because she was in Slytherin. He was finished school now, and was going to be heading off to start a potion's apprenticeship at the end of the summer. It was unlikely he'd have a lot of time to write once that happened, but she'd enjoy the time they did have.

"Since I'm here, my great-aunt sent your invitation to the summer brunch with me." Daphne remembered and pulled a letter out of her pocket. "She said that I was old enough to be allowed to choose my own guests, so I picked you. Pansy is going to be so jealous." She smirked.

"She didn't mind you picking me?" Tracey accepted it with a smile.

"She just smiled and added your name to the list," Daphne said. "I think you worry too much about what other people think. Anyone who cares who your mother is, isn't worth your time."

"That's literally a good ninety percent of our House." Tracey gave her a look.

"That leaves ten percent that are not complete idiots." Daphne laughed. "Do you think your father would let you spend the day in Diagon Alley tomorrow? We need to get our dresses for the Malfoy Summer ball."

"I haven't got an invitation for that yet," Tracey said.

"They don't go out until next week, I'm sure you'll get one," Daphne said. "Draco's mother will want to see all the witches in his circle, even the ones she won't approve of. It only makes sense. We're all getting to that age. My mother said that we should be careful about our associations, more than usual."

"Especially now." Tracey's mind wandered back to Cedric Diggory's body lying there on the grass. She couldn't get it out of her head, and a dark whisper in her mind said that it was only the first body she was going to see. Unlike Daphne, she didn't have the ability to just stay out of it. Her father was a Death Eater, and he was all she had. He'd warned her that things could get bad, and he'd looked really worried. That scared her more than anything else. She'd never seen her father look afraid of anything.

"We'll be ok." Daphne reached over and took her hand. "Let's just try and enjoy the summer, ok?"

"You're right." Tracey nodded and tried to shake the sense of dread sitting on her chest. Worrying wouldn't change anything. It never did.


End file.
